


Magically Vague Auguries

by BluestarandInk



Category: Closet-Void (AU), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Undertale
Genre: ASL, Almost the end of the world, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aziraphale embodies confusion, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bibliophiles unite!, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Crossover, Crowley and Aziraphale are not married, Crowley is a good parent, Doomsday (UT), Gay, I added Ineffable Bureaucracy because someone told me to, I didn't tag them though, Ineffable Husbands do that thing again where they steal a child, Mentions of other characters that aren't in this, Multi, Portals, Selectively Mute Character, Synesthesia, but then it isn't, except this child falls out of portal into Aziraphale's bookshop, he's one cool dude, there are more characters - Freeform, uh, yET-
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:46:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21585601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BluestarandInk/pseuds/BluestarandInk
Summary: Here we are, in a peaceful bookshop.Until the next Anti-Christ falls out of a portal and ruins that good peaceful vibe.Or:How To Do Doomsday By The BookNot The BEST Omens...
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley & Original Character(s), Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Beelzebub/Gabriel (Good Omens)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Of course, Anathema Device was very annoyed when a package arrived to her abode, only to find _another_ book of prophecy from her late ancestor, Agnes Nutter.

Now being the scholarly woman she is, she decides to read the book, instead of burning it, but stops at the twelfth prophecy, visually confused.

The prophecy read as followed:

'And He sharle falle into the labyrinth of tomes,

The Principalitee and the Serpente sharl finde

The one like The Adversary, yette notte

He will bring the beginning of the ende'

Anathema thought on this, trying to make sense of it, but obviously failing.

The one like 'The Adversary'?

Slowly, it dawned upon her.

It was talking about Adam Young, but... another person.

One like _him_.

One who had powers like the failed _Antichrist_.

Someone who could bring the **_Apocalypse_**.

Anathema thought long and hard about this, should she tell Crowley and Aziraphale?

She was pretty sure that they were busy with divine plans, or something of the sort.

* * *

Crowley hiccuped, this was his... fifth glass of wine? He had lost count, due to his incoming drunken stupor.

Aziraphale giggled like a school girl, obviously laughing at Crowley's pitiful drunken hiccups, though that was hypocritical, because he was hiccuping up a storm himself.

They were relaxing, making small talk and having arguments like an old married couple, but a little more drunk and a lot more gay.

Crowley sighed, relaxing his body, leaning on the angel, who didn't seem to mind.

Then there was a loud **_'CRASH!'_** from somewhere downstairs in the bookshop, and all laziness left him.

Aziraphale stiffened up and quickly sobered up, before springing upwards and running down the stairs.

" _Well,_ " Crowley thought hazily. " _This lazy afternoon got way more interesting._ "

* * *


	2. The REAL Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heads up:  
> White-Out is a Synesthete and I am trying my best to write from is perspective, so I write him not how Synesthetes act (And I then offend you.) I am sorry.
> 
> also?

* * *

What White-Out didn't know was that he was between being alive and being dead.

What he _does_ know, however, is that his mother didn't make the portal strong enough, or even _stable_ enough to work.

That sounds like his mother.

He didn't expect to be stuck in between life and death.

Though, he can feel a weird strength building up in his SOUL, threatening to spill out.

The power to change the world.

The power to destroy it.

He grins half to himself, he never was the most payed attention to in the family, but _this_? This... _raw power_? It boasted that he could a lot more than he thought was possible.

White-out didn't like it _one bit_.

He didn't want to be noticed, he wanted to left alone, to be ignored.

He didn't want to destroy anything.

A sharp ringing sound brought red to White-out's sense, a note that he knew well, a C.

And then he thudded into a musky smelling room.

" _Oh hey, it's September, that's maroon._ "

* * *


	3. Angels Can Own Bookshops?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> '' Like this, is signing. ''  
> "This is regular talking"
> 
> Just incase you get confused ;3

♦-[White-Out's P.O.V]-♦

I sneezed at the dust that floated in the air, there seemed to be an old book scent that sent faint dusty yellow through my mind. I always enjoyed that colour, it reminded me of.... home. Wait, where am I?!

I opened my eyes, taking note I was in human form, and took in the sight of bookshelves and messily scattered books. It seems that I had knocked down a couple of shelves in my fall. I rubbed my head, sending magic to soothe the aching, when a panicked looking Englishman rushed into the room, with a nonchalant red-head following close behind. 

The Englishman stood still, looking around in horror at all the books scattered carelessly, not even noticing me yet. Luckily, the red-haired man saw me and strided towards were I sat, his emotions not evident. I looked up at him, fearing the worse, until he stuck out a hand to help me up. Of course, I took his hand and hauled myself off the ground, brushing off dust from my magically generated jacket.

'' Thank you. '' I signed. '' Do you know where I am by chance? '' 

The red-head raised an eyebrow, before answering me. "You're in my b- friend's bookshop in Soho, London. If we're doing questions, what's your name, kid?"

I sighed soundlessly, thank god he could understand ASL. '' The name's White-Out, what's yours? ''

He grinned in a weird serpentine way, his voice dripping a light gold. "Weird name, mine is Crowley."

I huffed. '' My name is weird? Yours is too! ''

He grins at my annoyance, tilting his head at the other man, who was picking up books and re-shelving them. "That's Aziraphale, who also has a queer name, but I don't comment on it much."

The other man, Aziraphale, snaps out of his trance. "My dear, who are you talking t-" He drifts off mid-sentence, staring at me. "Pray tell, who is this?"

Crowley gives him a look from the top of his sunglasses. "This is the person who caused your books to..." He waved a hand towards the books that were still scattered around. "Fall."

Aziraphale turned his amber-eyed gaze onto me, his voice was a light pastel blue. "How did you make my books scatter, child?"

I pointed up at the ceiling and signed with my free hand. '' I fell, from the Void. ''

Crowley tilted his head slightly. "What the bloody hell is the 'Void'?"

I shrugged. '' Something between life and death, I don't know why I was there. ''

Aziraphale piped up. "You aren't... human, are you? I can't see anything supernatural about you either."

I smiled mysteriously, and let down the magical barrier blocking out my magic. Aziraphale gasps quietly at the sudden release of power, which was emanating from my SOUL.

"What's that?"

I signed proudly. '' My SOUL power, my magic, my life source. ''

Crowley snorts. "Magic? You're a warlock? Fat chance."

I rolled my eyes, and signed back, not caring if my answer wasn't normal. '' I'm not a 'warlock', I'm a hybrid, besides, what do you about magic? ''

Aziraphale gave Crowley a look. "Well, we both are supernatural beings ourselves, so I would hope we would know something."

I blinked in surprise. '' Supernatural? What do you mean? ''

"He means, that I'm a Demon and he's an Angel," Crowley gives me a sharp toothed grin. "I was the Serpent at the Garden of Eden, he is a Principality, former Guardian of the Eastern Gate."

I thought for a moment, staring conspicuously at the two supposed supernatural entities, searching their SOULs. '' You seem to not be lying. ''

Crowley throws his arms in the air. "Of course I'm not lying! I'm past that now!"

'' You don't need to throw a hissy-fit. I was just _observing_. '' I huffed, shaking my head at Crowley. Who knew that demons could be so dramatic?

Aziraphale shook his head at the now retreating Crowley, calling after him. "Do put the kettle on for me, Crowley, while you're back there." He turned to me and smiled apologetically. "Sorry about him, he can be... over-the-top sometimes, would you care for a hot beverage?"

I nodded, and signed enthusiastically. '' Do you have hot chocolate? ''

Aziraphale smiled. "I like your style, White-Out. Did I get your name correct?"

I gave him a thumbs up. '' That's my name! ''

Aziraphale smiled even wider, and motioned for me to follow him, and we both walked to the back room.

It smells like warm orange.


End file.
